


The Best of Dark and Bright

by betterlookingtwin



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang never showed up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boats and Ships, Enemies to Lovers, Fire Nation (Avatar), M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Southern Water Tribe, Stranded, Wilderness Survival, igloos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterlookingtwin/pseuds/betterlookingtwin
Summary: When Sokka saved Zuko, he was only looking out for himself. But his enemy is slowly becoming his friend. They might be able to work out their personal differences, but their countries will never be able to co-exist.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 96





	The Best of Dark and Bright

The Fire Nation warship collided with their sailing vessel. Sokka clutched the mast and braced himself as barrels and supplies splashed overboard. His heart hammered in his chest. A rope ladder unfurled from the larger ship to theirs. Soldiers in bright crimson armor dropped onto the deck. Dozens of them. 

Someone squeezed the nape of Sokka’s neck. He swiveled his gaze to see his father breathing heavily. “Do you have a weapon?” Dad’s turquoise eyes were wide. 

Sokka gripped the boomerang strapped to his back. He nodded. Dad hurried past him, drawing a short blade from his waist. Sokka couldn’t have been less afraid. His pulse twittered like an anxious bird. He wasn’t afraid. If his fingers trembled, it was from excitement. 

Men dressed in crimson armor dropped onto the deck. Their skull helmets hid their faces; the enemy looked like vengeful spirits. Souls who didn’t go to the moon when they died, but somewhere else, not that Sokka believed in the old tales. 

“No prisoners.” A man with hideous sideburns shouted. He jumped onto the ship, and his boots clanked heavily on the wood when he landed. The officer grinned like he already took the ship in his mind. He spread his hands in the air and then brought his fists down. Fire exploded across the stern. 

Someone collapsed as flames licked his body. Jaki. Dad’s friend and the man who taught Sokka how to fish with a rock weir. He crumpled oddly, lying with his elbow folded behind him and his hand twisted. 

Fire Nation soldiers collided with the Water Tribe warriors. Swords clashed with spears. The guy with the sideburns flung fire onto the ship’s bow. It ate, inch by inch, a wide swarth of the deck. Hungry. The flame would consume everything. 

Sokka heaved a basin of water into his arms, unwieldy like a polar bear puppy, and sprinted toward the fire. He ducked to avoid a soldier lunging for him. Drops of liquid splashed onto his coat as he ran. 

Sokka hurled the water over the flames. Where the fire had been, there was a large stain of black soot. He dropped the basin, and it clattered. 

He scanned the strained, pinched faces of his tribesmen for his father. When he spotted him, Sokka gasped. Three soldiers surrounded Dad at sword point. Dad faced worse odds, but Sokka would help if he needed him. He darted toward them but didn’t reach him. 

Someone stepped in front of Sokka. He wasn’t wearing a helmet; pale skin, black hair, and eyes gold and piercing. A horrific scar covered his left eye. Sokka barely had time to mutter, ‘uh’ before the man swung duel blades up from the sheaths on his back and lunged at him. 

Sokka stumbled sideways and evaded the first barrage of strikes. He scurried backward, weaving like a fish escaping a spear. Until he hit the ship railing. It dug into his back. Sokka hurled his boomerang at his head. The man dodged and sprang sideways. 

The cold grace and deep scowl and skill with duel swords; Sokka knew this guy. His jaw dropped. “You’re the banished prince guy, Zoko?”

Halting mid-lunge, Zoko stared at him, bewildered and, for a long moment, speechless. “It’s Zuko.” 

Sokka murmured, “ah.”

Zuko collected himself in an instant, a curtain falling down over his expression. He raised his swords again and flung his arms up. 

Up close, Sokka could only admire the workmanship of the swords. Their ornate design, the carved handle, and the sharp, gleaming blades. Sokka wondered if he would get an excellent view of them in a moment. 

The boomerang. Sokka’s eyes widened, and then he sprang sideways. Zuko brought his weapons down in the spot where Sokka had been standing. The boomerang collided into Zuko a moment later. It cracked against his skull. 

Zuko groaned and nursed his injury, still clutching his sword. He glared at Sokka, amber eyes like hot embers. Sokka glanced at the distance between Zuko and the railing. He charged at him and shoved him. His back dipped over the edge. Zuko dropped a sword to clutch at the support rail. 

Yes. Sokka could do it; defeat the enemy prince. The village would make him a celebrity and throw a feast in his honor. Zuko seized the front of Sokka’s coat to regain his balance. That was the moment Sokka saw things go horribly, terribly wrong. 

The two of them tumbled overboard. 

The loud splash met Sokka’s ears before the water submerged him. It was cold, winter in the South Pole cold; the kind of cold that felt like being sliced from every direction by invisible knives. Sokka swam to the surface of the water in time to see flames swallow his ship. 

Orange light reflected against the dark ocean water. Several splashes resounded from the other side of the boat. Sokka searched for a sign of Dad. 

His ship shuddered as it took water and tipped sideways. The Fire Nation soldiers evacuated to their vessel. Shit. Sokka needed to leave. They usually attacked survivors by shooting fire missiles into the water. 

Sokka swam north toward an uninhabited archipelago they sailed past a few minutes ago. Dad would escape and probably go in the same direction. He would already be planning a way to get revenge on the Fire Nation. 

Fingers latched onto Sokka’s coat and toppled him sideways. Zuko. His quick, foggy gasps clouded the air. His hand felt like a block of ice. 

Sokka shoved him away, splashing the frigid water. He paddled in the archipelago’s direction. Explosions of flame bombed the water from the Fire Nation ship. 

After several minutes, Sokka neared the land, his limbs heavy and throbbing. Almost there. He clutched the snowy ground and pulled himself up. Moisture ran down his clothes. 

Get up. An annoying, insistent voice, brash like Katara’s screeched in his ear. Sokka lifted himself from his elbows and sat up. He rubbed his trembling hands together to build friction. Hello, future frostbite. He blew on his fingers, but the heat quickly escaped. 

Zuko climbed out of the water. His hair tie had vanished, leaving damp black hair to fall in his face. He stared at Sokka or seemed to for a moment. Then he collapsed onto his back. Sokka remembered he had trouble breathing in the icy water. Maybe because he hadn’t braced himself. To be fair, Sokka hadn’t expected to go for a swim either. 

A blast of wind ripped past them and scattered the snow. Sokka shielded his face. He would get hypothermia before his father returned for him. He glanced around for something to start a fire. There was only snow. 

Snow and the fire bender. 

Sokka massaged his forehead and wondered if becoming an ice sculpture, a Sokka-cicle, would be so bad. Children could dress him up to scare away wolves. 

Sighing, Sokka walked over to Zuko. He reached for the slim collum of his throat. Zuko didn’t so much as twitch. He searched for a pulse but felt nothing.

“Oh, come on.” Sokka held his hand over Zuko’s blue lips. No air. Because Sokka needed him alive, Zuko had decided to die. Why was he so contrary? Sokka laced his fingers over Zuko’s chest and started giving compressions. How many per minute? It had been years since he used CPR. Sokka did at least thirty quick ones before his already tied arms felt like mush. 

Sokka tilted Zuko’s chin upward the way Gran Gran taught all the kids to do. He pinched Zuko’s nose. He inhaled like he was about to dive underwater. Sokka breathed into him. This was the straightforward part. He didn’t allow himself to gross-out. 

When Sokka drew away to take another huge breath, he saw Zuko’s chest rise and fall. He clutched his jaw and exhaled into him again. 

The next time Sokka released him, Zuko’s eyelids tensed and then opened. The prince squinted at him. Zuko probably didn’t remember his own name right now. 

Sokka allowed Zuko’s blurry eyes time to focus on him. “Look, I saved you. Now, you have to save both of us.” 

“Get away from me.” Zuko glared and rolled sideways. He spat orbs of fire until the color returned to his face. He clenched his fist and flame swept through the air between them. The precious warmth faded after a second. A warning not to come closer. 

“I helped you.” Sokka’s fists trembled, but not from the cold. He shouldn’t have bothered. Expecting some humanity from the Fire Nation? Was he stupid? 

Zuko narrowed his eyes. Another frigid gust of wind howled and assaulted them, and Sokka’s hood flapped against his neck. “You only helped me to help yourself,” Zuko said. 

Sokka scoffed. “The Fire Nation has no honor. Who could have guessed? Water is wet, Sokka. I should have known.”

Hot steam shot out of Zuko’s nose. “Take that back.” He strode up to him until they were nose to nose. Sokka had faced polar dogs who were twenty feet tall and thousands of pounds. He could handle Zuko. 

“You know what? Thank you,“ Sokka said. Zuko frowned, and a little groove appeared between his brows. “Thanks for being terrible. I would rather freeze to death than work with the Fire Nation.”

Zuko’s jaw twitched. “I’m taking you as my prisoner.” 

“I thought you guys didn’t take prisoners,” Sokka said. They killed mothers and burned ships. 

Zuko’s harsh glare faltered. “That wasn’t my choice.” He faced away from Sokka, and he barely heard him. Sokka didn’t know what he meant, nor did he care. 

Gazing toward the water, Zuko arched his fist in a fluid motion and brought it down. Fire exploded into a pillar of churning orange light. It was a signal.

Shit. A tiny dot was already sailing in view. Sokka’s heart sank. It was the wrong size and shape to be Water Tribe reinforcements. The Fire Nation would rescue Zuko, and Sokka would be killed or taken prisoner. The boat’s small outline grew bigger as it neared the archipelago. 

Except —

The warship sailed past them. It didn’t stop. Where the hell were they going? They had to realize it was Zuko’s signal. 

Zuko made a choked sound and stepped to the edge of the shore. “Damn it, Zhao.” The bonfire spilled out, fire lashed in every direction, and Sokka stumbled backward to avoid being burned. Wait, General Zhao attacked the ship? That asshole? 

Sokka glanced at Zuko and then the warship. “He left you behind,” Sokka said. For a second, he fought a smile. But then understanding gripped him like hands around his neck. His father. His crew. What happened to them? No. Dad was fine. Dad would survive somehow and escape. 

When Zuko finished panting, most of the snow had turned to cold puddles. Sokka cleared his throat. ”Maybe this is a good thing.”

Zuko balked at him. “How is it a good thing?”

“Now you know that Zhao guy wants you dead.” Sokka splayed his hands. He rarely pointed out silver linings for fire benders. But this time, he might get something out of it. 

Pursing his lips, Zuko scowled at him. Maybe he saw through Sokka like a thin sheet of ice. It didn’t matter. So what if Sokka hated everything he stood for? If he shoved him into the sea to begin with?

“Listen,” Sokka said, and something firm in his voice captured Zuko’s attention for real. “I know how to survive in this climate. I was raised in it. You need me.” 

Zuko scowled. “You need me too.”

It stung. It stung because he couldn’t deny it. Sokka massaged his forehead. “Yeah.” Some of the combative tension bled out of Zuko like a balloon losing air. They avoided looking at each other. 

Sokka closed his eyes and blocked out the bitter tang in his mouth. Working with the Fire Nation prince? What would Dad say? Or Katara? Best-case scenario, the elders banished him. Worst-case, the villages hung him up by his ankles and hurled tomatoes at him before tying him up and flinging him into the sea. 

Zuko shifted so that his scar faced Sokka. Pale skin gave way to inflamed tissue. Maybe he annoyed the person who gave it to him, much like he annoyed Sokka. “My father will send someone for me,” Zuko said, voice heavy with certainty. 

Scary how he voiced Sokka’s thoughts exactly. But their similarities ended there. This furious, deadly prince could step off a cliff as soon as Sokka stopped needing him for all he cared. 

“We need to make a shelter before it gets dark.” Sokka scowled at the fading sun and its weak, soft light. 

Zuko peered out of the frozen wasteland and then glanced at Sokka and then back at the wasteland. “How are we supposed to do that? There’s nothing here.” 

Sokka twitched. What did he expect? A cottage in the South Pole? A fancy resort? A hotel? “There’s plenty of snow.” Snow and oil and whale blubber, the Southern Water Tribe’s natural resources. 

Zuko opened his mouth, closed it. “You mean those ice house things?”

“Igloo.”

“Right,” Zuko said. “A fire bender in an igloo. That’s not a disaster waiting to happen.” 

Sokka stomped past him. He felt Zuko hesitate, but he followed him. They walked side by side with a wide space in between. For once, Sokka appreciated the silence. 

Zuko peered at him, gold eyes flicking toward him and away. After half an hour of sighing and furrowing his brow, he voiced his concern, “I thought we were making an igloo.”

“Way to pay attention.”

Zuko tilted his head. The heart of his issue still unopened, whatever it was. Sokka couldn’t read minds. Hunter, warrior, handsome devil, yes; telepath, no. 

Clearing his throat, Zuko gestured at the ground under their feet. “There’s snow right here. Where are we going?”

“This is the wrong kind of snow.” Sokka huffed. 

“Wrong kind of snow?” Zuko asked and squinted at it like there would be a test. 

“Look, you’re in luck. I come from a long line of master igloo builders.” Sokka inspected the ground with pursed lips. He kneeled and passed his hand over the snow. The wind had packed it in nicely. Sokka circled it and then circled it again until his heel marks left a guideline. 

He pulled his boomerang from its sheath. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zuko tense. Sokka kneeled and patted the dense snow. He brushed away the loose powder and then stabbed his boomerang into the snow and carved out a long, rectangular piece. Sokka lifted it up and placed it on its side. 

Zuko stared at him like a kid seeing the adults build an igloo for the first time, all wide-eyed wonder. He probably never learned anything about Sokka’s culture before he decided to destroy it. “How can I help?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka sawed out another block for the entrance tunnel. “We’ll take turns,” he said. A small, childish part of him resisted Fire Nation help. But his arms would fall off if he rushed to finish the igloo before dark. “Put this over there,” Sokka said and only realized afterward he was ordering a prince around. In his experience, Fire Nation soldiers threw people who disrespected them into prison camps, or worse. 

“Got it,” Zuko said. He grabbed the second block and fit it against the first one. As if sensing Sokka’s stare, he turned around. Sokka started cutting out another rectangle. 

Soon, they assembled the first row, a circle of snow around them. Sokka stooped and used his boomerang to chip away at the blocks so that they sloped in a spiral. 

He thrust out the tool to Zuko. Sokka grabbed the handle right beside Zuko’s fingers. “This long,” Sokka drew a line. “This wide.” Their hands moved in unison. “This far down.”

“Okay,” Zuko said. His eyes narrowed at the task at hand. Sokka folded his arms and waited for the opportunity to criticize his technique, but Zuko had apparently been watching him. He pulled a perfect block of snow from the ground, and Sokka molded it to the wall. 

After about two-and-a-half hours, the igloo formed around them. Sokka wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead. He hoisted the final block in place at the top. After he trimmed off the excess snow, it fit and blocked out the last drying ray of light. 

“Kind of dark in here.” Zuko’s voice surprised him. They had spoken little while building the igloo. Zuko worked hard which inconvenienced Sokka, whose new favorite hobby was collecting reasons to hate him. 

Sokka rolled his eyes. “That’s because I haven’t made the door yet.”

“Oh, right.” 

Sokka cut out a small section at the bottom of the wall for an exit and then made a cold sink. He collapsed to the ground. “Man, I would kill for tiger seal soup.” He threw his arm over his eyes. “At least we won’t have to worry about oil lamps.” Speaking of fires. 

Sokka rose despite the exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He crawled out of the igloo and glanced around for a few sticks and a large, flat stone. Returning several minutes later, Sokka nailed the twigs into the ground like pegs and placed the stone on top. He added more sticks and moss to that. 

“Okay, do your thing.” 

Zuko sat, his legs folded, with no sign of getting up, and he looked at the walls of the igloo. “Won’t a fire melt the snow?” 

“Nope,” Sokka said. “Water Tribe magic.” He felt a pang that any fire bender could destroy hours of hard work in a moment. 

Frowning, Zuko shook his head. 

Sokka sighed. “It’s really cold outside, man. Anything that melts is just going to re-freeze. That said, don’t overdo it.” 

A scowl of concentration appeared on Zuko’s face. He walked up to the fireplace. Exhaling, Zuko glided his fist through the air. A contained flame spilled out and caught on the wood and grass. Orange light illuminated his pale skin. 

Sokka hovered his hands over the flame and sighed. Strange that something so awful, fire bending, could be so useful. His stomach growled in a high-pitched whine. Zuko’s did too. They looked at each other. “Guess tomorrow, we have to go hunting,” Sokka said. “Unless someone comes to rescue us by then.” His words changed the atmosphere between them, a reminder that one of them would be saved and the other would be a prisoner. He felt Zuko tense without looking at him. 

“We should get some rest,” Sokka said. 

“Fine.”

Sokka glanced at the distance between himself and the pouting fire prince. “Yeah, we’re going to have to sleep side by side for warmth.”

Zuko gaped at him. He looked at him like he suggested he sleep next to a bear shark. They labored beside each other for hours. Why get shy now?

Zuko could suspect him of plotting to murder him in his sleep. But his awkward lack of eye contact made Sokka think he was also uncomfortable lying beside someone. When Zuko perched next to Sokka in the snow, he turned his back, pulled up his hood, and folded his arms. 

They slept back to back. Body heat grew slowly and then crawled up Sokka’s shoulders until he felt comfortable enough to relax. He closed his eyes, and the sound of Zuko’s breathing carried him off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first ATLA fic. I'm learning all the time as a writer so please bear with me. If there are any errors, let me know. 
> 
> I fell in love with this pairing recently after reading some really good fanfiction. Enemies to lovers is also one of my personal favorite tropes.


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